After
by fanakapan
Summary: Continuing from end of Season 3 finale
1. Chapter 1

_He held her in his arms. He could no longer feel her weight; he could no longer feel anything but the heat of the flames on his back. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. The only thing missing was the rising and falling of her chest against his own. He was numb; time seemed to stop passing as he knelt there on the road, illuminated by the orange fire blazing in the wreckage of the car._

'What the hell are you doing? Go! Shit, someone's gonna come soon. We have to get out of here!' Heather was now yelling at Volchek. He sat silently, staring at the blackness in front of him. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.

'What the fuck is your problem? Ok, so you crashed- nothing new there.' Her voice became increasingly sarcastic: 'Oh, is it the fact that you probably killed them? Oh, yeah, big deal…oh, actually, is it really? That's not such a new thing either!' He moved suddenly and looked at her.

'SHUT UP! Just shut the fuck up.' His eyes were full of some burning emotion that Heather had never seen before. She sat back in her seat, muted.

'I'm going out there to find her.'

'No way. No you are not. We need to go. The police will come and we'll both in prison AGAIN. We need to get out of here.'

He stared at her again, seeming not to understand what she was saying.

'I fucking killed her. You don't understand do you. I don't care about prison. I don't care what happens to me if she's dead. She was..' His voice broke suddenly and he whacked his thigh with his hand; Volchek didn't cry. Volchek was not the crying sort.

' I need to go.' He opened the door, and glanced back at her.

'Just..stay. Or, if you have to, go. I don't care.' She started to say something but he slammed the door.

'Shit' she muttered and slumped back in her seat.

_'Shit.' The car came to a halt about twenty metres from the burning wreckage, and about ten metres from the boy cradling the body of a girl in his arms. The driver got out and ran towards Ryan._

_'Hey, what happened? Is she ok? Did you crash or something?' Ryan didn't raise his head._

_'Susan- call a fucking ambulance! Some kids, been in accident. The girl's in a bad way. Shit..hey, son, who can I call?' He heard his wife speaking into her phone. He stared at the fire in front of him and then down at the upturned face of the girl. It was pale as snow and had a slight sheen. She was beautiful, and young._

_'Are you ok? The police are coming, everything will be fine. Don't worry. They'll be here soon.' He was at loss for things to say or do. He didn't want to touch either of them, as if it might break a spell. Ryan didn't respond._

Ten minutes later a police car screeched to a halt behind him and then a police officer was standing at his side. The officer knelt down in front of Ryan and spoke to him slowly and gently. Another officer came to his side. 'Excuse me sir? When did you arrive? Did you see this happen? Was anyone else involved?' He allowed her to steer him gently away from the boy and the doll-like figure in his arms.

The sounds around him began to register slowly in Ryan's brain. He heard sirens blaring. He heard people shouting. He heard a quieter voice, of someone addressing him. The black and white world around him began to change into colour, everything illuminated in orange. He felt someone touch his shoulder and jumped suddenly.

'It's ok. Let go of her. We're not taking her away. The doctor needs to see her.' He raised his eyes to stare at the face in front of him. The officer saw eyes full of pain, confusion and grief. He was so young. Ryan allowed someone to lift the body out of his arms and went the weight left them he realised how heavy she was. Marissa. Marissa was dead. Someone took his by the arm and gently pulled him up, escorting him to a nearby car. As he walked he looked around him, trying to find something that would make the situation a whole lot less real. Instead, he met the eyes of someone else standing half concealed by branches and shadow, whose features were illuminated occasionally by the flames. The reality came flooding back. Volchek. After a blink, Ryan looked back but the figure was gone, disappeared back up the bank and into the blackness beyond. Ryan closed his eyes and felt himself disappearing into a similar blackness, and hoped he would never have to wake again.


	2. Chapter 2

'Hey.' She closed the door gently behind her and sat near him on the bed.

'How're you doing? I brought some coffee..' the statement felt inadequate: coffee? Was that really what he needed right now?

'Thanks.' Ryan sat up and took the mug, although she saw that he was just being polite. His eyes looked at the dark liquid but seemed to gaze right through; the images whirling round his brain were clearly not featuring coffee.

I remember driving in the dark. I was sad, but you were happy, so I tried to feel happy for you. The other car. Faces changed: On one side, a face of anger. On the other, an expression of fear. You were scared, I could sense it. He was angry: I could see it.

_Funny, I remember thinking how people just couldn't let go of certain things in life, usually the things they least expect. Volchek couldn't let you go. I had never worked out how I would let you leave me at the gate. And now you are gone. Funny how things work out._

Kirsten looked at Ryan, feeling utterly helpless. This is what mothers are for, she told herself. And you can't get away by telling yourself that you're not his mother, because right now, who else is going to be?

'Ryan? The police are going to have to talk to you. About what happened.' He made a noise of acknowledgment.

I'm sorry. I know it's too soon.' She sighed and placed a hand on his knee.

'And I'm so sorry that it had to be her. And that it had to be you.'

The unspoken sentiment: 'Because it's always you.'

'But you have to carry on as best you can. Life goes on, even if it feels that a huge portion of it will not. In time it'll be better, and I know that's not what you want to hear right now..' She paused and looked at the ground, 'But that's all I can do to help you.' They both knew that was true: She could put him in counselling, she could take him out of school for a while, she could pay for him to get away. But ultimately, the wound takes time to heal. And when it's healing, life seems not worth living.

_What's the point? Why should I go on if she can't, what makes me so special to allow me to be sitting in my room drinking coffee, while your body lies cold and alone in the hospital. I was never the one who deserved this life. You should be here. You were the one who was always meant to go far, I was the boy from Chino living a fragile dream. And here I am. Two of us are left: two people who don't deserve to be here. Him and I._

'Does Julie know?' Seth asked his father as they stood in the kitchen and watched the poolhouse.

'Of course she knows. She is..was..her daughter.' Sandy immediately felt bad for snapping at his son, who was obviously way out of his depth. Humour was not an option, and Seth had no reserves. Yes, Caleb had died; but old people do die. And yes, Johnny had died; Seth had seen the effects on Ryan and Marissa's relationship. But, Marissa? This was someone who didn't deserve to die, someone who Seth was praying would walk through the door right now with a bag of bagels. Yes, Seth was way out of his depth.

'Will Ryan..does he…are you going to..' he trailed off, realising the childlike naivety of his questions. However Sandy understood what his son wanted to hear.

'Ryan will be ok, eventually. But we'll have to wait. It'll be hard, not just for him.' Sandy was concerned for Seth and the way that he would react to coping with Ryan so changed. But that was not something to be voiced.

'We have to support him.' Seth, normally, would have commented on the cliché of that statement, but today chose not to. Instead he nodded, pretending to understand things that he knew he didn't.

_Colours haunt my brain. Black, like the night. White, the flash of pain as the car rolled off the road. Red, orange, purple, blue: the flames. Black again. And still black._

Kirsten stiffened and made as if to get up. Ryan made a slight noise which made her turn to look at him again. He slowly raised his eyes to her face: haunted, dark, grief-stricken eyes that drove into her heart. 'Yes, I am his mother,' she unconsciously confirmed. The he spoke, his voice soft.

'I can't do it.'

She turned her body to face him and pulled him towards her, even as the first tear ran down her cheeks. She cried for Marissa, she cried for Julie, she cried for Jimmy, she cried for Seth, she cried for herself. But most of all she cried for her son.


End file.
